


in vitibus veritas

by Iverna



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 02:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11370315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iverna/pseuds/Iverna
Summary: … in which Emma, Hook, and Neal are unwilling participants in one of Pan’s little games while in Neverland.(Idea shamelessly stolen from the latest episode of Shadowhunters.)





	in vitibus veritas

A mix of annoyance and dread mingled in the pit of Emma’s stomach as she trudged along the path behind Hook, his black leather cloak swinging heavily with each swaggering step he took. Cracking leaves and heavy footsteps behind her told her that Neal was following closely, bringing up the rear. Emma wasn’t happy with the arrangement, but the guys had lined up, taking her between them, without any kind of discussion. Unfortunately, it made sense. She didn’t know the jungle like either of them did, and judging by Hook’s confident stride, he knew where he was going.

Still, she wished for different company. They’d had to split up, and it made sense to have a magic user in each group, but Emma would much rather have gone with her parents. Since that would have left Regina with Hook and Neal, though, it had never really been an option.

This arrangement was the one least likely to cause friction, and Emma knew it. Even so, Hook and Neal was a combination that she would normally have avoided at all costs.

But really, Hook with anyone was a bad combination. He had a talent for finding people’s buttons, and little self-control when it came to pushing them.

Although her father had stopped glowering at him. Progress, of a sort.

Ahead, the path opened into a clearing, and Hook’s steps slowed. He looked back over his shoulder. “Careful,” he warned. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”

They were halfway across the clearing when Emma felt something—a shiver at the base of her neck, and a tugging in her chest, prompting her to look left into the trees. She reached out to grab the sleeve of Hook’s coat, pulling him to a stop. “Wait,” she ordered, peering into the dense jungle.

“What’s wrong?” Neal demanded.

Hook said nothing, his hand on the pommel of his sword, eyes following Emma’s.

“I’m not sure,” Emma had to admit. “I just feel… something.”

“You feel something,” Neal echoed, coming to a stop at her other side. “Okay…”

“Oh, very good,” said a voice, and a lithe figure stepped out from the trees, where his green outfit had effectively camouflaged him.

Peter Pan.

Hook drew his sword, his hooked arm out in front of Emma. Emma’s hand went to her own sword, a little belatedly.

“You _are_ getting better at listening to your instincts, aren’t you, Emma,” said Pan conversationally. “Good for you.”

“What do you want?” Emma asked, not in the mood for his posturing.

“Oh, this isn’t about what I want,” Pan assured her. “In fact, it’ll be entirely about what you want. Let’s put those instincts of yours to the test, shall we?”

“If you want a fight,” said Hook, his voice dark and menacing, “come and get it.”

“Oh, Captain,” said Pan, shaking his head at Hook. “Always so eager. Weren’t you listening? This is about what _Emma_ wants. And I doubt she wants to see you get beaten up. Do you, Emma?”

“I don’t want to play your games, either,” Emma told him angrily. “So again. What do you want?”

Pan huffed. “You two are no fun.”

He snapped his fingers. Moments later, Hook and Neal were stumbling backwards, leaving Emma standing there alone. She whirled around. They regained their balance, but before either of them could move, long, thin vines burst from the ground and began entangling their feet.

Hook cursed and slashed at them with his sword. It had no effect. When he tried it again, a vine shot out, and coiled around the sword, tugging it from his grasp.

Emma started forward, only to find herself pulled back again.

“Ah, ah,” Pan admonished. “Not yet, Emma.”

Emma glared at him, but she couldn’t move, an invisible force pinning her in place. She watched the vines creeping up both men’s legs, twining around each other and anchoring them firmly in place, and wanted to scream. Did this island never run out of tricks?

“Bloody hell,” Hook spat, looking down at himself in disgust.

“What is that?” Emma demanded, panic trying to clog her throat as the vines crept higher and higher.

“Truth vines,” Neal said curtly, trying to pull them off himself–to no avail. More vines quickly crept up to take the place of the one he’d managed to pry off. “Won’t back off until you’ve revealed the truth.”

“This place is big on revealing secrets, huh.” Emma looked around, desperately searching for inspiration even as she kept talking. “We’ve already been through this.”

“I suspect this will be slightly different,” Hook ground out. He was glaring at Pan. “Get on with it, then.”

“Oh, it’s really very simple,” Pan said, a gleeful look on his face that made Emma’s stomach curl up with dread. “Emma here can set you guys free in a heartbeat.”

“Really,” Emma said, not believing it for a second.

“Of course,” Pan said. “All it takes is the kiss you most desire.”

_That_ threw her for a loop. It sounded like a line from a poem or something. Emma shook her head. “What?”

Pan grinned, nodding at the two men. The vines had now coiled around their torsos, pinning their arms to their sides. Hook was still fighting them, tugging at one with his hook, but Emma could tell that it was a losing battle. “The kiss you want most,” Pan said. “We both know it’s one of these fine gents who can give it to you. Kiss him, and this whole problem will go away.”

“Oh, come on.” Neal’s face was a study in exasperation. “What is this, middle school?”

“Think of it as a little game,” Pan suggested. “Just one little kiss, Emma. Who’s it gonna be? My grandson, or the pirate?”

Hook growled—actually growled, a rasping sound deep in his throat. “Why don’t _you_ come here and kiss my arse, you little—“

“Now now, Captain,” Pan cut him off, shaking a finger at him. “Language.”

“Go to hell,” Hook spat. Emma might have been offended by his outrage at the mere thought of a kiss from her, if she hadn’t shared his feelings completely. She _hated_ being manipulated.

“Who knows? One of you will be thanking me after this,” Pan said, that horrible glee still all over his face.

Neal rolled his eyes, as if the whole situation was nothing more than childish. Hook glanced at Emma, but she couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes before he turned his glare back to Pan. “Not bloody likely.”

“Or maybe both?” Pan went on. “You’re more than welcome to try both, of course, Emma. But I’d get a move on, if I were you. As the captain would say… tick tock.”

“No,” Hook ground out, “I still say go to hell.”

“Or you can always let them both die,” Pan said airily. “I won’t hold it against you if you do, I’ll admit they’re both pretty useless.”

“Screw you,” Emma gritted out.

Pan ignored her. “Well, I must be going. I’ll give you guys some privacy.”

He vanished.

Emma considered her sword, but she’d just seen what the vines had done to Hook’s. If he couldn’t fight them off, she had no hope at all. And magic…

She didn’t even know where to start. She had no idea how anything on this island worked, and even Regina couldn’t seem to manipulate it. The only thing she could do was set things on fire, and that was not a solution here.

“Emma,” Neal said, his voice strained with the effort of trying to fight the vines. “Just do it. It’s okay.”

Emma looked at him, at the urgency and exasperation on his face, telling her not to be silly about this. As if it was ever that simple.

For a moment, she wanted more than anything to go over there and kiss him and solve this problem. She’d done it before. She’d dealt with that, in her heart. It was safe. He was safe. It wouldn’t mean anything.

But that was exactly why it wouldn’t work. She knew better. Her superpower worked pretty well on herself, too. The vines wouldn’t respond to just any kiss, and kissing Neal wasn’t what she wanted, what she’d dreamed and thought about ever since the first time she’d done it.

The alternative was, of course, far less—and more—appealing. It wasn’t even the kiss itself that filled her with dread. It had been difficult enough handling the revelation that their first had meant quite a lot to Hook. She’d meant what she’d said before. She couldn’t make any kind of decision right now. She couldn’t worry about her damn love life right now, not when her son’s life hung in the balance.

Which was, she suspected, exactly why Pan was doing this to them. Anything to add more drama and conflict into the mix.

She turned towards Hook. He was still glaring, furious at Pan and his own predicament. But when his eyes met hers, he didn’t look triumphant, or provocative, or challenging. All she saw was anger, and concern, and an edge of fear. Not for himself, but for _her_.

And Emma realised that he suspected what she knew. And he understood what it meant. He knew that she wasn’t ready for this. He might want her, but he didn’t want this any more than she did.

The vines coiled around his neck, and Emma knew she was out of time. Her feelings didn’t matter right now. She could either kiss both of them in turn, or skip the pretence—a pretence which would only delay the inevitable by maybe ten seconds anyway.

Emma moved.

She had half a thought of giving him a peck on the lips, but by the time she was standing in front of him, she knew it wouldn’t happen. The kiss she most desired was not a chaste peck on the lips, and the heat rising in his eyes would have made that difficult anyway.

She didn’t grab his lapels this time. Instead, she placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the scruff there, and leaned up to him. “This means nothing,” she breathed.

Something hot and desperate flashed in his eyes, but he gave a curt nod, and then one corner of his mouth lifted in the merest hint of a smile. “Not to worry, Swan. I’ll let you take advantage of me this once.”

Emma looked into his eyes, and something seemed to pass between them, something like a pact. Pan wanted this to throw Emma off course somehow, to force her to confront this thing with her and Hook and Neal. To distract her in exactly the way she’d been trying not to let herself be distracted.

They weren’t going to let him succeed. The terms still stood.

Emma felt weirdly lighter, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and with that, it was suddenly the easiest thing in the world. She closed the distance still between them, and kissed him.

At first he didn’t respond at all, apparently determined not to take advantage of the situation. Emma put a little insistence into the kiss, and he got the message.

_The kiss she desired most._

He tasted exactly like she remembered, the hint of rum on his lips going straight to her head. She curled her hand around the back of his neck and into his hair, gratified at the way he gasped into the kiss. She parted her lips, wordlessly inviting him in, and he barely hesitated before his tongue was delving into her mouth. He kissed her like he _needed_ to, like there was nothing else in the world for him, all of his attention, his being, focused entirely on her. She didn’t bother to check whether it was working; there was no way any but this was the kiss she desired most, no way anything could even compare.

She lost track of time—that seemed to be how it worked when one was kissing Captain Hook. There was an ache burning inside of her, and his kiss was stoking it, her entire body yearning towards his. Every sweep of his tongue, every brush of his lips left her wanting more, until she was almost dizzy with it. The sound of their breathing was heavy in her ears, mingling with the creak of leather and the barely-audible, hungry sounds he was making at the back of his throat, drowning out the jungle around them. She was surrounded by him, lost in him, and it felt good and right and almost, almost, a little bit like home…

God, she needed to stop. She needed to never stop. She needed to—

_Stop._

It took some effort to remember where she was and what she was doing. She pulled away, and he let her go at once. When she looked up at him, his eyes were still mostly closed, the same wrecked expression on his face that she’d left there last time. It took everything she had not to lean back in and get that peck on the lips after all—but it was bad enough. Anything affectionate and she would lose what was left of her sanity.

She looked down just in time to see the last of the vines retreating. Glancing over at Neal, she saw that he was likewise free, though he still didn’t look very happy about the situation.

Emma wanted to say something, anything at all, preferably something to make light of the situation. But she couldn’t seem to think of any words at all.

“Well… well then,” Hook said, with apparent effort. He sounded like he was having some trouble keeping his breathing even. “We should move on.”

Even as Emma watched, he got his face under control, an angry set to his jaw. She fought back an insane urge to kiss him again, to see if it would soften again.

“Yep,” she said instead, nodding, relieved that she did indeed still have a voice and, at least, one word in her vocabulary. “Yeah.”

“Whoah, wait,” Neal said, looking incredulous—and more than a little angry. “I think we need to talk about—”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Emma and Hook snapped in unison.

Neal held up both hands, still looking annoyed but apparently realising that forcing the issue now would pitch him against both of them. “Okay. Okay.”

They moved on, Hook still in the lead, Emma now bringing up the rear. The distance between them made Emma feel better, as did the angry energy to Hook’s swagger. It felt like he was on her side, like they were in agreement, like he was honouring the terms despite Pan’s games. Like he understood.

No, there was nothing to talk about, she told herself. Nothing at all.

Definitely not a one-time thing.


End file.
